


Crestfallen

by WatermelonDip



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Anxiety, Character Death, Comfort, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief, Hot Mess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Marinette saying fuck life over and over again, Mild Gore, Mild Language, Murder, Self-Harm, Stress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26447137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatermelonDip/pseuds/WatermelonDip
Summary: Marinette described it as surreal. The image of blood flowing the the floor stuck in her mind like a catchy song.Living with her aunt, giving up her job as Ladybug, it was all too much for her.Darkness; it can only be helped by the light.
Relationships: Alya Césaire & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Nino Lahiffe
Comments: 11
Kudos: 34





	1. When Rubber Hits The Road

**Author's Note:**

> Watch out for blood. There sure is a lot of it.

Marinette felt as if her legs were about to give out right then and there.

She had a good day at school, it was normal, pleasant. But now, now was different. Now was when the reality of everything came crashing down on her like a pile of bricks.

She had never seen anyone seriously injured before.

All the times she had fought Akuma's they had never shed any blood. But this was a lot of blood.

More than a lot.

Marinette wished she could go back to when she was still walking home. Luka was next to her, smiling, listening to her babble on about her designs and youthful shenanigan's.

He was always so happy, his smile always so bright. No matter how much she rambled on about seemingly nothing, he listened. He listened like he knew there was going to be test.

It made her happy.

But now she was not happy.

First she saw her mother. The one who she tended to go to in hard times like this one. But Marinette knew very well that her mother would never help her again.

It was gory, much worse than any of the horror movies Alya would force them to watch at sleepovers.

Those movies were cheap, pg-13, failures of cinema but this, this was not a failure. It was far from it actually. It was a success, for someone.

The slit on her neck was larger than any cut Marinette had ever seen before. It wasn't just a light line from the pressure of a knife, it was practically severed. It look like if she pulled hard enough the head would just come of.

And then there was the blood. Lots of it.

It looked like a river of red, which immiadtly rid the girl of her appetite she had complained about only a few minutes before.

Her eyes darted to the right, widened when she noticed who was next to her mother.

Her father, the one who she could thank for all of her baking knowledge.

Now he couldn't enlighten her with any more of his tips, now all he could do was lay lifeless on the floor. Blood seeping out of his stomach.

There was no gun, no knife, no apparent weapon. The police would look for one, they wouldn't find it. They would try to convict someone, but they would never succeed.

She stumbled back, feeling a sudden urge to dash out the front door.

She would've left if she hadn't felt a pair of hands grab her shoulders, quite firmly actually.

She felt her breaths quicken, sweat coating her whole body. For some reason her throat felt so small. She got that feeling when you wrap a scarf too tight and you have to loosen it, but she couldn't loosen it.

"Marinette," she heard Luka mumble, his voice wavering slightly. She didn't respond. Actually she couldn't respond.

"We have to call the police," he stated, obviously gathering up as much faux confidence as he could.

Of course they had to call the police. Her parents were bleeding out in front of her. The next logical step was to call the police.

But she just couldn't do it.

"Police," she muttered under her breath, her eyes staying plastered on the motionless bodies in front of her.

She couldn't calm her breaths, it was just impossible. Her bangs clung to her forehead from the moisture.

And then, still in complete shock, she spun around. Her eyes caught Luka's. His hypnotizing blue eyes that she never thought she got enough of.

She hugged him.

She wrapped her arms around him and she buried her face into his chest. She didn't let go. She didn't think she could even if he asked her to.

Luka, slowly but surely, returned the hug. He let her soak his shirt with her tears. Her let her hands squeeze into his sides. And he let her scream.

He let her scream because she needed to. And he needed to let her.

Her parents were dead. They were dead, all cut up right there in front of her. There wasn't much to do except scream.

Marinette was fifteen, and she never thought anything would come to this.


	2. Hard Pill To Swallow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who cares about Marinette Dupain-Cheng?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God this story is way too dark for a kids show.
> 
> It's fine.

Marinette felt cold. But it wasn't the weather.

It was the growing pit in her stomach that was becoming more and more apparent as every second passed.

_Dead._

They were extremely, undoubtedly, and completely dead. And there she was, alone, cold, and lost.

Marinette felt useless now. She couldn't move, she couldn't talk, it wasn't very easy to breath either. People would tell her it was the grief, but she knew deep down that it was much more than that.

"Hey," she heard a voice call to her. It was trying to pull her out of the dark. Trying to rescue her from the reality of her terrible life.

"Hey."

She didn't turn to look at the voice. It didn't need to see her, the despair wasn't pretty.

"I can't say anything to make you feel better can?" The voice let out the softest of chuckles. But it wasn't out of nervousness, it was something else that she couldn't quite decipher.

"No," she replied bluntly. She wasn't in the mood for lying just to bring a smile to someone else's face.

"Marinette, look at me." She wanted to ignore the voice. She wanted to ignore the constant calling to her, the call to the light.

She looked at him.

"There are those eyes I love so much," Luka said softly, letting a faint small crawl upon his lips. She knew he meant for it to comfort her.

It didn't.

Her expression was anything if not unimpressed. She couldn't smile, she couldn't even look mildly interested.

Luka took a breath, leaning back on his palms slightly.

The blanket the paramedics had put on her wasn't helping her at all. If anything it was making it all a million times worse.

"Why do you even care," the young girl questioned, furrowing her eyebrows at Luka.

So so much more than the grief.

"Because I care about you Marinette," Luka shot back, attempting to address her confusion from her actions.

She scoffed.

She scoffed because she didn't believe him, she couldn't believe him. I mean who really cared about Marinette Dupain-Cheng?

Her parents? Sure. But they were dead. Two more people she could check off as nothing.

Alya? No, not really. If the girl had a choice before the weak little Marinette and her opposite superhero persona, she would choose Ladybug. Of course she could choose Ladybug.

Of course.

Adrien? No way. The thought of it made her laugh. Adrien was so kind, but that didn't mean he cared. He had a lot going on his life, enough to mask him from the treacherous lives of the people around him.

Adrien was just a little puppet. Puppet's don't care.

Luka didn't really care. He couldn't possibly. There wasn't a single person on earth who was stupid enough to care anymore.

Marinette knew that the whole ordeal was turning her into a complete pessimist. Although what could she really do to stop that?

"People tend to lie to a person when the truth is such a hard pill to swallow," she stated as she turned to the blue haired boy, her expression seemingly content with it's blankness.

Luka widened his eyes, taken back. Marinette was being rude.

That was new.

"I'm here for you Marinette, you know that right?" He was concerned. Genuinely concerned. It didn't really matter anyway.

"Yeah, yeah I know," she replied, mustering up the best smile she could. She wondered if it was even noticeable.

And then he left. And then she was alone. And then she stopped herself from crying because, no matter how better than can make you feel, tears weren't worth it right now.

__________

The fact that it was snowing really pissed Marinette off.

I mean dead parents and unreasonably cold weather really just didn't mix.

They hadn't gone much into the murder. Sure, it was a big deal but apparently not big enough.

Some people blamed the most recent Akuma attack. Saying things like 'Ladybug coudln't save them' or 'Something must have went wrong'.

But Marinette knew it was none of that. It was something much more simple.

Hawkmoth found about her secret, and he killed them. There wasn't much more to it.

No, she didn't have proof. And she wasn't planning on looking for it. She was much to weak to even attempt to do anything about anything.

She thought about calling Luka. Apologizing for being a complete jerk earlier. And yet she just didn't do it.

She didn't do it and she was okay with that.

She was okay with the fact that he was sitting on his bed trying to decipher her earlier words and make some logical sense of them.

There wasn't any logical reason for them. Of course there wasn't. Her parents were dead and she decided that she wanted to be rude.

It wasn't strange.

No, no it was quite normal actually. It was very normal.

She was dealing with the grief in her own ways that may or may not have been destructive. 

She pulled the phone up to her ear, listening to the soft tone of the awaiting call.

The device beeped, announcing the beginning of the call with the person on the other side of the line.

She took a strangled breath, waiting for words to escape her throat.

"Hey."

"Hey."


	3. Keep Your Shirt On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette practices her acting skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, this is weird for me to have to say but uh, the slightest bit of mature-ish content. Nothing explicit or major. I just feel like I have to warn you.
> 
> Although honestly this story is already rated teen and up so don't expect al unicorns and rainbows over here.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Marinette thought about what to say next for a moment. It wasn't difficult, friends should be easy to talk to.

She hoped to god the news hadn't gotten out yet.

"So, Mr. Dj, any parties tonight that you know of?"

Marinette knew for a fact that Nino didn't get too many gigs. Mostly because he was fifteen and unexperienced compared to older people like him.

But a party was party.

"Oh uh, I think I heard of this bash a couple blocks away. But are you okay? You don't seem like the party all night kind of girl."

Of course she didn't. She was Marinette. She sat home and practiced sewing until ten.

But this wasn't for enjoyment. This was far more selfish than that.

"No no, you've got me pegged all wrong. Hand me a ridiculously cliché plastic beer cup because I want to get drunk and hit that dance floor," Marinette replied, mustering up as much confidence as she could.

She had to sell this. She had to sound happy.

She had to be someone else.

"Alright," Nino breathed, letting a soft chuckle escape his lips.

_Dead._

__________

"Nino, you really didn't have to come," Marinette muttered, her fingers interlocked in front of her. Her arms were exposed, causing her to squeeze them as close to her body as possible.

_Dead dead dead dead dead._

Completely, utterly, and fully dead.

"Oh yes I did. I don't trust you to act responsibly when your being so weird," he replied, shooting her a sarcastic smile.

She considered him annoying older brother in a way. Especially in situations like this.

Situations when she just wanted to not be Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

"I guess we should go in."

She felt sick. Very very sick.

The kind of sick were your stomach wants to explode and you can't manage to make any sense of why.

And yet she turned, smiled, and nodded. She nodded, letting Nino know she was fine, she was great, her parents totally hadn't just had knifes jabbed into them.

"Yeah, I guess we should."

__________

The tv shut off with a faint click.

Adrien wasn't happy. Nor was he planning on being happy anytime soon.

He wondered about Marinette. It had been all over the news, and yet she hadn't contacted anyone as far as he knew.

Marinette was kind. She didn't deserve something like this.

Although the thought didn't in Adrien's mind for too long.

His photoshoot had been extra lengthy today. He had to wake up early, miss school, make ridiculous poses all day with insufficient pause's.

Why couldn't he catch a break?

Why couldn't it, for once, be about what he wanted?

He wanted to be the one who got to smile because he was happy, not because his face was going to be on the cover of a magazine.

His mouth hurt. His arms hurt. His legs hurt. His neck hurt. His eyes hurt. His head hurt.

And on top of it all he couldn't even be loved by the girl he held dearest.

Life sucked. Adrien had determined that a long time ago.

"You think I'm ever going to be happy again," Adrien asked, turning to his quite un-interested kwami. It was a deep question, not something you ask someone just after they have enjoyed a hefty slice of cheese.

"Kid, I think your just as happy as you want to be." Plagg had no idea what that meant. And he didn't cared much either.

He really just wanted to be left alone.

"Insightful," Adrien shot back, letting out a breathy chuckle.

Marinette's parents dead, Adrien thought his might as well have been.

The boy hadn't a single idea.

__________

The music was loud. Loud enough to drown out the dreadful thoughts racing through Marinette's head as if a cult-like chant.

_Dead dead dead._

Her whole body was moving as if she coudln't even control it. Only the rhythm of the tune bursting through the speakers determine her somewhat dance.

Was it really dancing?

Marinette considered it more of a mating ritual of some sorts. Girl shakes her ass in the air. Guy sees said ass. Guy says something utterly repulsing in her ear and she swoons.

Boy is alcohol strong.

Marinette didn't mind when she felt a pair of hands on her hips. Nor did she react.

She just kept dancing, barely feeling whoever was behind her press their chest up agaisnt her back.

She had lost Nino a while ago. Although was it a while? Maybe it had been only a few minutes.

Time had lost all meaning at this point.

_Dead dead dead dead._

How had she even gotten in? She was only fifteen. She was small. She was weak, she was innocent.

She had to leave.

And yet she didn't.

She let unknown hands roam her body. Pads of fingers reaching places that made her tingle. They were not gentle.

Dead dead dead dead.

She felt a puff of her air agaisnt the crook of her neck. Words were whispered agaisnt her skin. She didn't focus enough to decipher them.

_DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD._

Her head hurt. It was the kind of pain that radiates slowly, reminding you of how blank everything really is.

It slowly fades into a ring. A ring that seems to be exploding from all around, covering you, circling you. Smothering you.

She couldn't breath.

Why couldn't she breath?

Her whole body almost went limp as a pair of fingertips dipped into her skirt, lifting the waistband outward slightly.

"How about I grab you another drink."

Now she definitely heard that.

The voice was low, raspy, definitely older than fifteen. Was he sound attractive? If so it wasn't working.

Marinette whimpered, not knowing what else to do. For some reason she felt powerless. Her movements weakened now.

"Hey, what's going on?" That voice was one she did indeed recognize.

She felt the unknown hands leave her body. A certain sense of absence behind her.

"Alright alright, no need to get angry."

She spun around. It seemed fast, the world spinning until she was facing the other direction

"Are you okay," Nino questioned, concern lacing his tone.

Was she okay?

No, no. She was most definitely, not okay.

"Dead," she murmured. She didn't think he heard. He probably didn't.

She fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry this took so long to get out. I had so much school crap to do recently. Online sucks.
> 
> Hope you liked it. Have a spectacular day!!!


	4. A Fool And His Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young girl and her comfort are soon parted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally just Lukanette. Nothing else. Just a crap ton of Lukanette fluff.

The beeping was slow, soft, rhythmic.

The louder it got the more the faint headache became more and more apparent.

Marinette felt cold. Although she wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe it was the unsettling feeling of waking up to the smell of medicine. Or maybe it was the apparent fact that she was in a hospital.

A cold, blank, quite depressing hospital.

Oh had she wished her eyes would flutter open in a graceful way, just like those movies she would watch with her mother on the weekends.

But no, of course not.

Her eyelids jolted open. Light flooded her vision.

It was bright. She hated it.

Heat, heat everywhere.

It erupted like a volcano. Her body felt like it was pulsing, a certain soreness appearing in the roots of her teeth.

She let out a noise. It was like a choke, just much more quiet.

Much much more quiet.

_Dead dead dead dead._

"Marinette." 

The voice way happy. Surprised? Maybe.

"Thank god," the voiced breathed out, relived. Definitely relived. "I was worried you wouldn't wake up," the voice murmured, fear lacing it's soft tone.

Marinette feels something brush agaisnt her palm. It was warm, gentle, soothing in a way.

"I really just can't lose your right now," the voice mumbled, it's tone fading away at the sad thoughts entering it's head.

She didn't remember much. She drank, not much, too much scared her. But she drank. The liquid tainted her breath, masking her thoughts and replacing them with new ideas. 

"Luka," the girl said, turning to the blue haired boy. She smiled. She smiled because there was nothing left to do when she noticed the faint circles of tiredness under his eyes.

"The one and only," he replied, obviously tired out of his mind. His thumb continued to rub soothingly along her palm. His motions graceful despite his need to fall fast asleep.

Marinette thinks about what to say next. All of the romantic yet meaningful conversation starters rush through her mind, telling to be the perfect girl everyone wants her to be.

"What happened last night?" None of them seemed to be good enough.

Luka's expression stiffens slightly. It detests her. Causing her to pull her hand back. She had no idea why that face bothered her so much. It just did.

The face morphed once it noticed the absence of her hand in his. It was sadder, despaired. He liked it, her warmth.

Emptiness; it came so suddenly. 

Hospitals just made it all so incredibly clear.

"How long have you been here?" The question came out so bluntly. Almost like she wanted it to be short, simple, a few minutes maybe. That if he said he hadn't waited for long, that it was just a coincidence that she woke when he walked through hat door, it would make things better.

And the thing was that he hadn't even answered her previous question.

He didn't answer this one either.

He just let the sadness fill his vision. Remembering something, something he didn't want to remember.

_Luka's phone rang. He answered it._

_"Luka, Luka ! I really don't know what happened," a voice rambled into his ear. He had been calm. He wasn't anymore._

Marinette let her breaths become shaky. She let her soul take in Luka's emotions. She let them in because there was nothing left to hide.

_"It's Marinette Luka she-she," the voice stopped, thinking._

_SHE WHAT?_

_Luka was starting to feel something strange arise inside of him. Was it fear?_

_Most definitely._

_"She just fainted! She won't wake up Luka-they said she hit her head hard. Luka I don't know what to do!"_

_Nino was rarely anxious. It always meant it was bad. It meant that something was not to be looked over._

_Luka never looked it over when it came to Marinette._

"Luka? How long," she stated, angry somehow.

Why did this frustrate her?

Was it the pain he had obviously been through?

Probably.

_Luka choked. He choked on the air, trying to get it into his lungs._

_It really didn't work._

_"Nino, Nino calm down." It was hard to calm another person when you yourself can't seem to breath._

_"She was bleeding Luka!"_

_No. God no._

_It was the image. The image of red seeping from her sweet little head. It killed him._

_He was dead._

_He was trembling._

_How had she gotten hurt? Had someone pushed her? Bumped into her? Why did she faint? Was it her parents? Was it the undeniable terror he had seen in her eyes that afternoon?_

_He couldn't stop it._

_He couldn't stop the pain. He wanted to end it. To take it upon himself and free her from it._

_He wanted it to be enough._

"I would wait an eternity for you Marinette," he whispered, craning his neck forehead. 

And then, like it was no trouble at all, he placed the lightest kiss on her forehead.

Marinette closed her eyes. She could feel his lips pressing agaisnt her skin, pulling away her worries like a vacuum. 

She heard something.

A whisper. A whisper that sent warmth all over her body. The warmth wasn't overwhelming. No. It was comforting. She liked to think it was meant to be that way.

_"My melody."_

__________

Everything felt so dull. People had come to see her. Alya, Nino, maybe Adrien. If so she didn't remember. She hadn't been paying much attention.

She missed Luka.

He left only a few minutes after she woke up. And now she had to sleep. The doctors told her they wanted to keep her overnight.

Maybe to calm her down.

Maybe to rid the bad things from her body. Whatever they were.

She didn't know.

But she did know that she needed to sleep. And she needed comfort to sleep. She needed someone.

She needed Luka.

Marinette imagined him sitting on the deck of the Liberty. His fingers moving swiftly over the strings of his guitar.

He would be playing a tune. A relaxing tune. A tune she could get used to if she heard it enough.

She could fall asleep to that tune. 

If only it was real.

She called him.

The phone rang, the abruptness of the dial tone racking up nervousness in her chest.

"Hello?" The voice was dis-gruntled, hoarse. 

Of course, he had been sleeping.

"Oh hi, sorry did I wake you," Marinette questioned, concern for the boy who she knew needed some serious rest right now.

There was a pause. She took it as a yes.

"Well yeah, but that's okay, what do you need?"

Marinette smiled. She smiled because this was Luka, and Luka cared about her needs when he had already been awake for hours on end waiting for her to wake up.

"I-I can't sleep," she mumbled, feeling like a small child. Helpless. Weak.

There was another pause. But this one wasn't a response. It was a just a break. She listened closely to Luka's tired breaths.

They were shaking the tiniest bit, wavering.

"Oh?"

That was it. One word. One simple word that could be perceived in a million different ways.

"Yeah."

"How can I help?"

She felt her whole body melt into the hospital bed.

Her smile grew. She couldn't stop it now.

"I just need to, um, talk," she decided on, believing that would be enough.

"Talk, okay, we can talk."

God was he tired. Marinette knew it, she could hear it, feel it. Sense it in a way.

And yet he stayed on the phone.

"How's the band?"

It was such a simple question. The smallest of small talk. And she was okay with it. She was okay with it because with every word he said about something he cared about she felt better.

Safer.

Happier.

_Alive alive alive._


	5. Close But No Cigar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A girl reaches for the light and the darkness grabs her ankle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not completely sure if this is good or really weird.

"Marinette." The woman held out her hand. The smile on her face was larger than any other one Marinette had ever seen before. Her chest puffed, her hair tucked neatly behind her ears.

"Aunt Louise," the girl replied, wrapping her hand around her aunts. 

Marinette didn't dare smile.

A handshake. Such a simple concept. 

It took minimal effort.

Although it meant so much more than that.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," the woman muttered, leaning down enough for it to be condescending. Her smile had faded, a much more concerned taught line being formed in it's place.

"Yeah, well so am I."

Marinette was always such a kind girl. Her eyes shined like the glimmering morning sun. Or so says some.

Grief does things.

"I know how hard it is Marinette. We've all lost people in this mess." Marinette despised the therapist speak the woman has now invoked.

Memories danced around the girl's head and blood flowed along the wood floors that showed some remainders of various baking ingredients.

"Yes, I know that." Her tone blunt, her eyes making their way into slits. The woman was not amused at her niece's stubbornness.

"Marinette." It was a warning. 

She took it much too lightly.

"I have a friend, he lives in the city, we have plans," the girl announces, not bothering to name said friend.

Luka is someone she doesn't wish to accompany such vile behavior.

"Alright," her aunt lets out with a sigh. Marinette's grimace deafens only slightly. "Go, just be back before dinner."

Dinner. Such a strange meal when you no longer have a family to participate in it with.

Blood. Lots of it. It's sticky, maybe. Very red. A great color really. It would work great with some of her designs. 

It flows like a waterfall and it doesn't stop because the pain never leaves. It stays and buries-buries itself inside of you forever, forever, or at least as long as it can.

"Goodbye, Aunt Loise."

Formalities are juvenile, but Marinette sticks to them as a simple comfort.

__________

"These violent delights have violent ends. And in their triump die, like fire and powder  
Which, as they kiss, consume."

"I had no idea you were such the romantic."

Luka chuckles. It's a faint gesture. Marinette accepts it wholeheartedly.

His happiness covers her, mask the things she feels with smiles and longing filled glances.

"Romeo and Juliet was a tragedy. If anything I'm a pessimist." Luka strummed the strings of his guitar. The lines of infinite tune vibrating perfectly because of him. 

He created the music emitted from his guitar. Marinette found that it gave the whole idea a certain glow.

"Tragedies, in my opinion, tend to make the best romances."

Luka smiles, Marinette smiles back. She crosses her legs, tight pink jeans hiking up on her ankles a couple of inches.

Her skin is pale. Luka has always received the impression that the paleness made her cold. He doesn't know why he thinks this. She's not cold. He's touched her. She's quite warm actually.

The coldness is just a symbol maybe. 

A symbol for something possibly meaningful when looked at in some sort of light.

"Your opinions are always interesting," Luka breathes, head shaking in a casual way if that's possible.

There is silence. Marinette's smile grows.

Luka's room is calm and she wonders if it's the decor the boy himself.

Darkness swallows lots of things that are, in their entirety, Marinette herself. The one thing it cannot seem to consume is her eyes. Her vision, the one thing that lets her see his smile. His brightly dyed hair, his eyes that sometimes can shine brighter than her own.

"Are you going to school tomorrow?"

The suddenness of the statement startles the girl. Her heart rattles and her brain searches for a snappy response.

She comes up blank.

"Hmm," she replied, thinking he must assume. "Yes."

"Oh?"

There is no immediate reply once more and Luka worries that he has gone too far.

"There isn't much use on dwelling on the inevitable. I assume it's what I should do."

It's sufficient enough to calm Luka's nerves.

But he still worries. 

He always worries.

"It's not dwelling when the wound is still fresh."

Those words melt into her brain and she wants to forget them. She wants the pretend that she didn't hear them because they are so incredibly correct.

A hand makes it's way to her shoulder and at first it's nothing.

It's but a simple touch made by a friend.

The hand, soothingly, rubs along her back.

She feels as if she could fall asleep.

Her head drifts to the side, resting on the shoulder of a boy who welcomes the action with open arms.

His lips turn up as he notices her. Her eyes close and she lets his warmth fight off the strange darkness that fights instinct inside of her.

The moment is short. She has to go home soon. She had to leave and she had to let the warmth escape her. She had to let it flow with the wind until it is all but ash, dust, and memories.

"Keep reading," she murmurs.

Old English repeats in her mind and the tragedy seems much less intimidating.

__________

"Tikki?"

The kwami doesn't perk up and Marinette loses her sunny disposition quicker than she shoulder.

"Tikki what's wrong?" Marinette's tone becomes worried, persistent. "Tikki?"

"Marinette I-" she cuts herself off and Marinette's confused heart drops to her stomach.

Tears blur vision and words come out as sobbing chokes.

"Marinette, I tried, I really did, he just-he just said it wasn't worth the risk."

_Worth the risk._

She felt insignificant.

Marinette falls asleep and, for some reason, the absence of the little red bug terrifies her.

_"Goodnight Tikki."_


	6. Elephant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are said, no one queries.

Whispers of the wind flew past Marinette's ears. She was cold.

No one was going to say a word.

She hated that, she hated everything, but she hated that. She hated the silence that comes with grief, the unwillingness everyone seems to create, to fill the silence with fluffy(useless) words.

Luka called her pretty.

It wasn't much, maybe he had done it before, but he called her pretty.

Pretty.

Paris was pretty, he hadn't called her Paris. It didn't much, his kind words, they were simple and they made the butterflies that often came to her on rainy days flap against her stomach, trying to feel something-something.

Pain.

No one seemed to be outside.

Dead.

__________

"You know," Alya, despite her hesitance, mumbled. "We're all going to a movie after school." Marinttete, if normal, would've made the obvious conclusion. It was there, simple and basic because that's how things were when your young, and no one can feel it like you do. "Do you uh-" She swallows her worries, attempts to. "Do you wanna come?"

Does she want to come?

"No." Alya is surprised.

Marinette is pretty, she looks pretty, she sounds pretty, she acts pretty. She doesn't talk pretty.

She talks ugly. She talks like a warted old witch and Alya can't stand it.

She smiles.

"That's-" the girl furrows her brows, sad. "That's fine, just take your time."

"I will."

No one queries. No one goes into because no one wants to deal with that. No one wants to console her anymore because she's gone. She's fallen and no one wants to talk to the empty space that is left.

Adrien listens.

He says no words.

He continues to listen.

"Plagg," the faint haired boy would later question, the little black cat would pop into despaired existence. "Do you think Ladybug will notice my haircut?"

__________

"Milady?"

She grimaces. Chat is nice. Chat smiles. Chat makes conversation.

Chat doesn't know.

"Yes?" She sounds pretty, her words are masked and he can't tell-he can't-

"You look delightful tonight, as always."

No, no she thinks. No, this is not it, this is not really what he wants to say because how can he? How can he be so bland?

It's nothing now.

"Mhm, alright Chaton." She doesn't look at him, he frowns. His posture becomes the tiniest bit, almost invisibly, slumped.

She has to do this now.

"Kitty?" He turns. The boy, the one who doesn't really pay much attention anymore, is met with hazy blue eyes. He can't stand.

"Yes," it's cracky, squeaky, premature.

Marinette has to do this now.

"I uh-" she presses her lips together, it's a thin line that replaces her now constant grimace. "I'm going on vacation."

It's a lie, a big one, one that she knows must explode at some point because all lies do.

"Oh?" He nods, blonde hair unsightly in her view. "Where?" He looks at her, eyes large in a strange way that bothers her more than the blind tingling does.

She thinks, head tilting, nose scrunching, bangs falling a little bit into her face more than usual because she wishes they could just cover her for once.

"Australia." She nods, it's decent, she thinks. It's not decent. It was positively dreadful, really.

"Australia." He nods as well, he senses it. Adrien isn't intuitive.

He senses it.

"I should go."

She's gone. He wants to grab her arm, to pull her back because patrol just began. He's too slow.

He's too slow.

Marinette doesn't come back.

__________

"No, no no no no," she's persistent.

"So no?"

There is a laugh that can be heard from a million miles away because anyone who caught a whiff of it wouldn't be able to resist drawing in.

Marinette is delightful.

Luka is entranced.

He smiles, she manages to muster up a decent believable smile back.

"I'm sorry I just-" she pauses, thinking about her response because the truth doesn't make much sense. It doesn't make any sense. "School sucked."

Luka nods.

He's kind.

He's not Chat, not even on paper. Marinette bathes in that.

"School can be like that sometimes." It can, she decides, but it wasn't that. It was her, she wasn't an idiot at she understood that it was her.

The broken little girl.

Luka was there to watch her break.

Maybe that reminds her of things.

Her head hurt.

Dead.

"I think I was rude to Alya." Marinette sounds almost, indescribably, disappointed in herself. Luka frowns, maybe he feels something towards himself he doesn't have much reason to feel.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

They both frown.

"Luka?" It's quiet, not in tone, just in level because she wants to shrink. No one loves Marinette. No one loves the broken girl. No one loves the witchy words and no one loves the lopsided smile.

No one loves the sight.

"Hm?"

She sighs.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?" Vile, she thinks, do you think I'm a vile person.

It would've been a more colorful choice of vocabulary.

Same idea.

The record cracks. The music stops. The rustling of feet is absurdly interpreted and no one says a word.

Not a word.

Luka is entranced, it's negative.

"No." Marinette knows, undoubtedly, that it's not a real response. He's Luka, he wouldn't think about it, he wouldn't consider it, he wouldn't change his own mind.

He's Luka.

He loves her.

The idea is foreign, he doesn't want to consider it. She has to make him.

"I was rude to Alya." she annunciates as if he's a small child. He is, they both are. "Alya, Alya!"

Luka's glances are forlorn and he can't get closer.

He can't do anything.

"I doubt it was that simple."

No, no it's not like that.

It's not simple, although it's not very complicated. It's a whirlwind, something Marinette couldn't very well deal with since The Wizard of Oz. It's a lot, and a little, and nothing. Despite its blatant pain, it's silent, silent little translucent tears dripping to the floor with a horrifying amount of weight.

It's young.

Dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I literally have like 300 reads, gosh.
> 
> Is there anyone out there in the vast world of fanfic readers who actually likes this?
> 
> I sure don't.


	7. Skin and Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A true detox-one of substance-hurts like hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *OHOWOWOWHJWOWOWwowhihHGHWHHJDFSAhj*
> 
> Possible trigger warning: you have been warned.

It was beautiful.

Red, lots of it, flowing and staining pinkish pale skin.

It hurt.

It really hurt.

_"I know Marinette."_

The blade, the shiny _sharp_ blade, slide swiftly along her red. _Her_ red.

_"It's hard, I know Marinette."_

And then, and then after the pain, she bled. She liked it, the sting, the small radiating sting. It started simple, a little, and then a little after a little. She liked it.

 _Her_ red.

_"You have to, you do, Marinette."_

It flowed, simply, flowed. She smiled.

 _Her_ red. And then more, more, and it kept coming, leaking like oil.

 _Her_ red.

More red, she cant-she can't stop-

_"Did you hear, Marinette? It's crazy right?"_

Shaking, it's her hands, their shaking. Shaking and shaking and she can't stop and it's wet, her eyes are wet.

The fall, they hit the red, they fall and she can't-

_"Yeah, I mean I can't believe Ladybug would do that."_

It's a broken sob that flies violently past her lips. It pushes up her throat, grasping at the insides of her skin, pushing and pushing. 

The tears, they burn, they burn into her skin and they mark her like fire. Red, digging, red digging into her cheek and more red falls. Blood drips from her face and it feels like she's on fire.

 _Her_ red.

There is this resonating clang that rings for far too long and sounds far too much like a sting of a knife against a knife.

Marinette stares.

__________

Alya called it an enigma.

"I mean, it's Ladybug. No one expected her to be replaced like-" she had paused, it was nothing, Marinette was still. "Like the drop of a pin?"

The sky was cold.

Adrien didn't say much. A few nods, a sad glance at the floor, and she truly wondered why. Maybe he was doubtful, maybe he lost hope.

Maybe he was just Adrien.

Luka hadn't seen her today.

She thought it for the best.

It hurt.

The desolate wrap around her wrist hurt- hidden by fabric, sure-but it hurt.

It all hurt.

_Dead._

She decided it best to sleep, or rest maybe, wait for dinner.

_Wait._

Lots of waiting now, more than she would've expected to come from this.

__________

It was the weekend. Which meant, if it had been a normal one, celebration. Marinette cried silently in her bedroom.

She thought about calling Luka. She wasn't sure if he had been busy. She hadn't asked him. Juleka hadn't said a word to her.

It might've been a sign or maybe, the girl just didn't know what to say.

She called him after a few minutes of empty sobs.

He answers with a click, the worrisome smile he always seems to have plastered now aways is something she can from his faint breaths on the other end.

"Marinette?"

She decides to not fall apart as she holds the phone up to her ear with a shaky hand.

"Yeah, it's me."

The next breath is heavier.

" _Hey,"_ and then, although she didn't find it a necessary fact to state, "It's been a little while." Two days, which wasn't a while, but he must've understood that _in Marinette's mind_ life was slower than it should've been.

"Indeed it has."

"I've missed you," the words drawl into the air, decisive. "You know, it's nice to talk to a friend once in a while," he decides because it doesn't fit very well, but it isn't the first statement, seems to be good enough.

"I missed you too, just busy," she lies, and then, she smiles. Tears redden her eyes. "School sucks."

He chuckles. She melts.

"So I've heard."

She thinks, thinks about telling him she'd like to see him, thinks about asking when he's free, thinks about stating the blindly bloody facts and telling him it all.

"How was your day?"

 _Fine,_ he would say, _Stressful, but fine._

"Forget about my day." She frowns, or maybe it's just the flat line that replaces her smile. The difference, as small as it is, seems to be invisible at some point. "Was everything okay with you know," he pauses, she takes a breath. "People?"

"They talked a lot-at school-and that sucked too."

He furrows his brows.

"Talked about what?"

"Teen things, I think."

__________

Marinette eats her dinner.

__________

Marinette falls asleep.

__________

Marinette goes to school again.

__________

Marinette talks to the police.

__________

Luka tells Marinette she'll be fine.

Marinette stops trusting Luka with such past confidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I understand how utterly short all of these chapters are, and I'm sorry, I just sort of use this story as my fic where I can make it short and try my best to be edgy. Plus I post this book on my Wattpad too and we all know how standards go way down over there.
> 
> I hope you liked this.


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